


The God Profusion

by raven_aorla



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Sandman
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:17:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The human myths of Norse gods are inspired by the aliens of Asgard. But beliefs are powerful. Beliefs, on some level, makes things real. Which the Avengers learn when Marvel!Loki gets involved in the fallout of Sandman!Loki's involvement with the Endless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not my characters. Note that the Marvel!Asgardians aren't going to go by traditional mythology no matter what, so I will take liberties.

"Thor, what are you doing here?" Tony asked, entering kitchen #7, the one where he and Bruce most often met in the morning to share breakfast.

"Are you not glad to see me, shield brother?"

"I'm glad, Point Break, I just thought you were busy doing the crown prince thing on your planet. More to the point, what are you doing here with...her?"

It had taken every ounce of Tony's diplomacy - before he'd had his coffee, he might add - to say "her" instead of "that", which may have been taken poorly. Because the being sitting across the kitchen table from Thor was vaguely young in appearance and female-shaped, but looked like something out of one of Harvey Dent's wet dreams - half-pretty and whole, half-rotted and corpse-like.

The two of them were eating strawberry and cream cheese toaster strudel. With big mugs of milk. And flaky pastry was spilling out from the guest's decayed jaw half, though she demurely caught the crumbs with her napkin.

"This is my niece, Hel. Say hello to Tony Stark, the Man of Iron of whom I have told you, my dear."

Hel rose to her feet and gave a little bow. "I hope I am not infringing on your hospitality."

"Oh no...no, not at all, plenty of toaster pastries to go around." Tony flipped through an index in his mind, where he'd done a lot of research on his teammates. Only the research on Thor had involved a lot of mythology, and hoping to gods that a significant amount of it was embellished by drunk and bored vikings. "Are you, uh, Loki's daughter?"

"Yes. He is my mother. If you find this strange you are not the only one." Something cold and dark infused her otherwise polite tone, there.

"I assure you, we are among friends." Thor patted Hel on the back and explained, "My father felt it was best for the realm and the distress it was causing the court that Loki's children be raised by others and eventually given positions of rank that were elsewhere, away from the attention of those who would question too loudly. Hel rules the dead of Asgard that are not destined for Valhalla but are still worthy of preservation by soul-binding, not allowed to slip into true Void."

"Huh. Some of us on Earth have been trying to figure out how to do that with computers."

Steve wandered in then, dressed rather adorably in a flannel robe and loafers over checked pajamas. He sometimes met Tony and Bruce in this kitchen, especially when he hadn't slept well. He stopped and blinked but recovered well. "Oh, hi Thor. You're on vacation? And who is the young lady?"

"Hel Lokisdottir," she said, allowing him to take her good hand in a handshake, though she let her hand hang limply as if not sure what to do with it but going with the flow. "I do not wish to cause distress on Midgard, but Uncle Thor suggested we meet here knowing my discomfort in Asgard as an exile of sorts."

"The myths are at least partially true," Tony explained while busying himself with the coffeemaker. "Seems Loki's got ladybits despite being for all intents and purposes a dude, and his kids have been scattered around as minor officials because they're kinda freaky. No offense meant, just telling it like it is."

"I appreciate your lack of pretense or fear," Hel replied, then taking a drink of milk. "This is good milk. There is not much variety of food in my domain, as I and my servants are the only ones there embodied."

"I hope you are not being deprived. I will not stand for it."

"Oh, no, Uncle, we are treated well, albeit with great caution. But it is not worth the effort to keep cows, for example, so what dairy foods we have is sent down the branches of Yggdrasil from Asgard itself."

Steve took a moment to process this - Tony had given them a multimedia presentation on the less alarming aspects of Norse mythology one night after Thor left - and took a seat across from the two. "So what brings you both here? Or are you just having a little reunion?"

"Loki's gone missing. I wanted to ask Hel if she knows where. As his only daughter, Hel is Loki's favorite, and there is a possibility he might have visited her."

Hel raised her good eyebrow. "I was just about to tell you, Uncle, that I had a unique visitor shortly before you called. Not Loki, though."

"Who, then?"

"Death."


	2. Chapter 2

Loki found himself unchained, in a room with two comfortable chairs before a fire, a table between them. The carpet was white and soft beneath his bare feet, the walls white but hung with pale green hangings. He had no memory of how he went from the dungeons in the lower recesses of Odin's palace to this place.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked no one in particular.

Yet there was someone else with him, who did not so much appear as unaccountably make himself known, as if it had been Loki's lack of observation that kept him from realizing his host had been there all along. He was in the shape of a tall, slim man, with unruly white hair, his robes and boots white, an emerald around his neck and his eyes like a night of stars. His voice had an odd echoing quality to it. "In a sense, though I thought it prudent to bring your body here as well. Will you sit?"

"What happens if I do not?"

"Then you will remain standing. I will sit, though, if that does not cause you offense." So the man did, with a sort of fluid decorum, the grace and propriety of a well-mannered brook.

Weighing his options, Loki chose to sit across from him. 

"You are not asking the questions that have come to your mind."

"As you are the one who have chosen to bring me here, you are the one who has specific things you wish me to know."

His host seemed to take this as logical, giving him a slight nod. "I know you, Loki. You and I have not met in person, but you have come to my realm before, and will do so many more times. I am Dream."

"Is that a name or an identity?"

"I am Dream. I am called other things but this is what I am. Is there anything you wish to eat or drink?"

"Not right now. Besides, I have heard tell that in some worlds to accept refreshment is a tacit bargain to never leave."

With utmost seriousness, Dream said, "No one must stay anywhere forever. Not only do they come to me throughout their lives, but even after my sister takes them there are always choices if one only allows oneself to see them."

Loki disliked being baited towards turning a conversation towards specific channels, but until he knew what the game it was hard to choose another course. "Your sister?"

"My elder sister, Death. She recently alerted me towards the situation I summoned you to discuss with me."

"And by 'summoned' you mean 'kidnapped'."

Dream raised an eyebrow. "You did not give me the impression of great appreciation for your former surroundings, prince of Jotunheim. I will return you there after you have assisted me if you like. Depending on certain other factors I may also be able to send you somewhere else."

Ah. During his time serving Loki, the Hawkeye had explained to him an idiom involving sticks and carrots. That was the carrot. Soon the stick would make itself known. "What is it you desire from me?"

"Desire has nothing to do with it." This was more vehement than strictly necessary, Loki thought. But Dream did not elaborate, instead going on to say, "I believe you are aware that Asgardian interference in bygone Midgardian affairs resulted in a distorted version of Asgard being worshipped as a realm of gods."

"I am."

"What you perhaps have not known is that if enough dreamers believe the same thing, it causes creations in my kingdom to shape themselves beyond what I myself intend, though I am able to steer the course. This is true for the creation of gods - true gods, sustained not by food and drink and air but by the belief of those who called them forth into existence. Which is how you, Loki, who may style himself a god but is in fact a creature of flesh that has a limited span of life, accountable to my sister one day, are not the only Loki in Creation."

Loki had no interest in looking or sounding a fool, so he kept his face impassive. "So the other Lokis, being product of dreams, are your responsibility."

"There is only one other, to my knowledge, but this too causes problems. It will be simpler to explain this to both of you at once. Come with me, and be prepared for an unpleasant sight."

Then the walls dissolved around them.

........

Meanwhile, in the waking world, the core members of the Avengers were gathered around Loki's daughter and trying not to either yawn or gape excessively. Since Hel was clearly enjoying her oatmeal and none of them wanted to potentially upset her, they were all in the kitchen. Bruce was anxious. Clint was grim. Natasha displayed no emotion whatsoever, as was her default state with an unknown variable.

"You were saying that you have met Death, niece," Thor prompted, filling up a glass of water for her.

Tony downed a third espresso like it was a shot of liquor. 

"She was actually a pleasant and cheerful individual," Hel replied. "She said she was glad I had grown so tall, as when she gave me my first breath of life she had thought I might not survive long." She resumed eating in the very deliberate manner she had to use to keep from food spilling out the bad half of her face. 

"What did you discuss with her?"

"She came to say there seems to be more than one set of our family, and that she was going to ask her brother if he knew about this but she wanted to check with me first. I wasn't entirely clear on her meaning but she apologized and said she or someone else would explain better when more was known, and that she herself had to go take care of a volcanic eruption on some planet I had not heard of."

An unfamiliar voice in the hallway commented dryly, "I've met her a few times. She's like that, even when giving the 'if you hurt my little brother you'll regret it' speech.'"

It went to show a lot about their different personalities that Steve's reaction was, "Who are you?", Bruce's reaction was "How did you get in here?", Clint's reaction was to reflexively grasp for a bow and curse when he realized he had none, Natasha threw a knife without hesitation (and had a knife to throw in the first place), Thor was shielding Hel with his body, and Tony asked, "You got the concerned-loved-one speech from DEATH?"

The intruder was utterly unconcerned about the small dagger embedded in his torso, and except for the new hole in it his plain white t-shirt was pristine. He wore faded blue jeans, white sneakers, and sunglasses so dark as to make one wonder how he could see anything. Though his body and face seemed young his hair was pure white. "Again, she was pretty nice about it, all things considered. It's not like her brother can't take care of himself. For the most part. Though you shouldn't tell him I said that; he does sometimes lecture me about 'taking liberties'. Would you all be willing to emerge into the larger foyer? It's a bit cramped where you are."

"If you hand my knife back," Natasha said, her voice steady. 

"Right. Here." He pulled it out of himself and held it out, his hand around the blade and the hilt facing towards his audience. "I promise I won't bite. I don't do that sort of thing anymore. Oh, Thor Odinson, it would perhaps be a good idea for you to send Hel home right now. It will all make sense eventually, or at least as much sense as it's going to make."

Steve turned to Thor, gently authoritative even in pajamas. "We can deal with this, Thor."

It took a while for everything to get settled so that the stranger - the stranger who was apparently dating Death's little brother (at this point, hey why not?) - could give his speech. But eventually they were in the living room of that particular floor, seated but wary. 

"Okay. Hello, Avengers. I am the Corinthian. I know it's a weird name. My master is simultaneously the King of Dreams and also the personification of Dreams himself. I am not interested in hearing your entirely unoriginal wisecracks about this. He sent me because he wants to confer about a problem involving multiple Lokis apparently existing, the one you know and the one he knows. He says it's difficult creating a shared dream without the foreknowledge and consent of all the dreamers involved, so he let me come to the waking world to fetch you. Not that we're going to try to do it against your wills. I'm not good at verbal persuasion but of his most trusted employees I am both the most human-shaped and am better at fitting in among mortals and not being alarming by accident, which isn't the best reflection on us as a whole now that I think about it. You should come with me, though. It'll be safe if you do as he says."

"You're saying that you're the least disconcerting person of all the people that could have been sent?" Bruce asked.

The Corinthian sighed. "I suggested Cain, who is at least physically normal in appearance, but he's really belligerent and he doesn't like leaving the Dreaming ever since he had to go do diplomacy with Lucifer. And Abel's terrified of everything ever."

Steve sat up a little straighter. "You mean the Cain and Abel? As in Genesis?"

"For a given interpretation. Eve lives there too. But this is all beside the point."

Bruce took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "What happens if we agree to you?"

"Then you will follow me to a cavern beneath the world where the version of Loki you haven't met before is suffering a painful and lengthy imprisonment, and the version of Loki that you have met is no doubt having a rather surreal day."

Tony spoke up. "Why are you wearing those sunglasses? I've seen movies; I know that you probably have horrifying eyes or something. Or empty sockets."

"Not a bad guess, but both wrong."

"I want to see."

"You really don't."

"We don't even know what you are. So supposedly the King of Dreams is your boss, but what are you?"

"A reincarnation of a nightmare that went rogue and became a serial killer, reborn with a imperative of complete devotion and a very, very strong sense of a lot of reasons why I shouldn't try something again. I mostly haunt people's dreams. I don't strictly get paid but on the other hand I wouldn't exist otherwise so I don't angst about it. Happy?"

"I want to see."

Natasha said quietly, "Watch yourself, Stark."

"I'm not going unless we know what you're hiding."

"Fine." The Corinthian took off his sunglasses.

One of his other mouths said, in a screechy little voice, "Curiosity. I told him this would happen." Then the other other mouth said, "If you don't help the Dreamlord I might end up being the least scary thing you ever see as a result of your actions."


	3. Chapter 3

"Are we still in Midgard?" Loki asked, failing to keep a tremor out of his voice as he and Dream walked down long, dark steps of rock in some kind of cavern deep beneath the ground. The only sources of light were faint, sickly yellow flames far in front of them and a little ball of pristinely white illumination his guide had emanating from his hands. 

"In a sense. Even the Alltongue does not have the right vocabulary to accurately describe this." Dream gazed at Loki somberly, though he did not break his stride. In the same soft, even tone that he had used throughout this encounter, he asked, "Are you frightened, prince of Jotunheim?"

Loki was trying to decide whether or not to make a withering reply when a cataclysmic scream shook the stones all around them. Even Dream paused momentarily and assumed some sort of facial expression, though it was not obvious exactly what it represented. Regret? Sorrow? Grim determination? Loki collected himself and asked, "Is this a prison?"

"Yes. I am not fond of cages on the whole, but when I attempted to alter this one it did not end well for the caged one, or for either of me."

"I'm don't know what you mean by-" Here Loki fell silent as they emerged from the passageway.

A naked man-shaped being was bound to a large, flat boulder. At first Loki couldn't tell what the oddly colored and shaped bindings were made of, but when he realized they were in fact viscera, he wished he could go back to his confusion. The prisoner had wild hair the color of flame. A serpent wrapped around a stalactite dripped venom from its fangs. The droplets were caught in a small bowl by an emaciated woman clad in rags. Though he was no longer screaming, the prisoner kept up a constant litany of curses and profanities in languages so old Loki could barely understand them. The woman said nothing. The man had no eyes.

"Snake, sleep," Dream said, still in that soft tone. One would have thought the snake wouldn't even be able to hear the command, but it instantly dropped into slumber, its mouth shutting as it dropped against its perch. 

The woman turned to look at Dream, and in her weary eyes there remained a hint of defiance. "I will remain awake and you shall not harm him."

Dream lowered his eyes for a moment. "Very well, Lady Sigyn. I neither envy your lot in life nor understand your persistence in remaining, but I will respect your wishes."

The prisoner said, with slow deliberation, "Morpheus, free me or kill me, anything else is utterly irrelevant."

"I am not Morpheus. I am Dream. You knew me as Daniel."

Even without context Loki knew these few words had dealt the prisoner a devastating blow. It was nearly two minutes before he replied. Loki gazed upon him long enough to notice that his back was bent at an odd angle, suggesting a broken spine, and wondered whom this being had angered. Finally, the prisoner said, "Is that nightmare with you?"

"Not at the moment. He will be here soon, but not in order to cause you further damage."

The prisoner's laugh was almost worse than his scream earlier. "There's someone else here with you. I can hear. I've had a lot of practice, hearing things, even with nothing but the dripping and that wretched wench's occasional sobs to listen to."

"I have brought another named Loki, whose life has borne many similarities to yours, indeed whose nature is quite like yours. But you are not alike. Besides different details of your pasts, this Loki is a very long-lived mortal being of flesh and blood, though he has been worshiped as a god and considers himself one."

Then a voice that was entirely too familiar said, "Freaky as this shit is, I do enjoy your delusions of grandeur being put into context, Tall Dark and Snide."

Not just Stark. All of them. All of them but Thor. Amazing how Dream seemed like a harbor of refuge and mercy now by comparison. The man who contained the great beast inside him - Banner - was sufficiently agitated to make Loki wish he knew how to leave this place, though he did notice Stark putting an arm around his shoulders in a calming gesture that soothed the other. Interesting. Barton of course looked like he would trade years of his life in order to have his arrows with him. The Widow showed distress for less than five seconds at the sight of the prisoner before shielding it behind her deeply ingrained reserve. Their captain, troubled though he clearly was, awaited further information before deciding upon a course.

The one newcomer who was a stranger to him had hair as white as Dream's, though far shorter, and wore dark glasses even in this dimness. He gave Dream a small bow. "I did as you commanded, my Lord."

The prisoner said, "Make him go. Now."

"No, I will not. But he will not touch you." Dream walked a few steps towards the Avengers. "I thank you for agreeing to join us. The Corinthian will have explained the situation."

The Captain cleared his throat. "Though he did give us some background, we're not quite clear on exactly what you want to meet with us for, sir. Steve Rogers, by the way." He extended a hand.

Dream stared at the hand for a moment before recalling the cultural significance of the gesture and gently grasping the proffered hand and shaking it. "I am Dream, and I know you. Some of your drawings are collected in volumes in my library."

Stark paused in murmuring what were presumably reassurances to Banner and asked, "What, what?"

"The things you prioritize to ask about first in these situations still weirds me out a bit," grumbled the archer.

Dream actually gave a slight smile. "Every book ever thought of but never written is in my library. I had my librarian, Lucien, gather all of yours together so I could refresh my memory. Natasha, your volume of love poems was particularly affecting."

Barton raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Excuse me," Sigyn said, "I need to know what all this has to do with my husband."

"Shut up," growled the prisoner.

"That's no way to talk to your wife," Rogers said.

The Corinthian grinned. It was a lazy, self-assured grin of a predator that is never hunted itself. "Loki doesn't respond well to lectures, or even threats." 

Sigyn moved her bowl around in her hands, as if noticing its shape and weight for the first time. "Are you the one that took his eyes and broke his back?"

"Yes," the Corinthian said. "I am glad I ate a wolf's beforehand, because to have a god's eyes as my first meal in this lifetime would probably have ruined me."

"CAN EVERYONE NOT TALK ABOUT EYES GETTING EATEN THANK YOU," Stark interrupted, so high-pitched that in other circumstances it would have been funny.

What would make Dream raise his voice? Anything at all? "Corinthian, please, you are agitating the mortals."

The Corinthian's smirk vanished. "I'm sorry."

"We will discuss it later. Do you want to continue to be a part of this meeting? If it is chafing you to maintain civility I can send you home."

"I'll stay, Lord." Three words of chastised regret.

"Very well." Dream turned his attention onto the others again. "The reason having two Lokis alive and active in this universe has raised my concern is that there are certain prophecies about a single Loki that under the current circumstances do not appear to be possible. Not all prophecies are accurate, but if these ones turn out not to be that will throw many other portents into disarray. My elder brother Destiny is unable, or perhaps simply unwilling, to provide answers on this matter. The Odin that placed this Loki here will declare a feud against me if I remove him for any reason, so this was where we had to meet in order for all the relevant persons to be present. My sister will arrive momentarily. She has...she refers to it as a 'tight schedule'."

"She would, wouldn't she..." muttered the Widow.

Sigyn spoke up again. "Dreamweaver?"

"Yes?"

"I have a request. I have not asked anything of anyone for tens of thousands of years and have forgotten the etiquette, and you are free to turn me down."

Dream blinked. This was obviously not something he did frequently. "What is your boon that you crave?"

"A larger bowl."

Popping into existence - indeed with a sound that seemed far too cheery for the place - was what looked like a young woman with milky-pale skin, wild black hair, a short black shirt and flimsy black tunic, heavy and tall black boots, and a silver sigil around her neck. She had a large tub, bright blue, that she held out to Sigyn. "Sorry I'm late. Overheard and thought this might do."

"If you have all these metaphysical siblings, who or what are your parents?" Stark asked.

Barton said, slowly, "We are in a cavern somewhere dank and dark, brought here by a nightmare that ate a god's eyeballs, face-to-face with our biggest enemy so far, having a meeting with the personification of dreams and death, and you want to know what these unfathomable and powerful beings have as a family tree."

Addressing the group at large for the first since his arrival, Banner said, "You're a great guy, Clint, but you haven't grasped the nature of the scientific mind."

Death giggled. Loki never thought this sentence would ever occur to him. "I love you people. Why don't we go to my house, lil' bro? I checked with Odin. He doesn't mind as long as I bring this fella back, and I would anyway because it's not his time. Sigyn sweetie, you too, you probably need a change of setting for once. And you can pick a bowl you like better if you don't like this one. Oh, um, other-Loki, the one in the green and black, your daughter said hi and she loves you no matter what."

"She's not dead, is she?"

"Oh, no no no, I do make social calls sometimes. Like now. Though I suppose this is kind of business too. Anyway. Here we go!"


End file.
